


The Perfect Omega For Us 2

by angelxtal



Series: MCU Stories [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelxtal/pseuds/angelxtal
Summary: After the whirlwind of events leading up to their mating, Bucky, Steve and Tony have to get their heads on straight in order to move on after finding out that Natasha was the mole. But how can they when relationship issues and team complications keep coming up? And what happens when the evidence of Natasha just doesn't seem right?Part 2 of the Perfect Omega for Us Series. Not a standalone fic.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for returning and if you're new here, you can find me on my [tumblr](https://starkmarks.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This is just a short prologue just like the last epilogue. See the end notes for when the next chapter will be out :)
> 
> Tell me what you think!

The place where her skin was the thinnest, right on her temple, stretched tight over her skull, was red and bruised, bone dangerously soft beneath it. When she dared to put a finger against it and press down, even with a feather-light touch, the bone grinded like sand beneath her skin. It was much more than broken, Natasha suspected.

Already, even just days after being taken here, she knew that this warehouse she was being kept in--that is what she had taken to calling it--was nowhere that it could possibly be found. Perhaps it was somewhere deep in a jungle, but that seemed unlike her captors. Doom would rather taunt Tony than keep her somewhere truly smart. She was near the city, close enough that the mechanic would kick himself mentally when he found out she’d been here all along.

Her mind, as always, was tempted to wander to places of making her final arrangements for death. It seemed like the most logical thing to do, come to peace with the situation, but she had no intentions of doing so.

She would fight to her last breath.

She’d done her best to count the seconds and minutes, but had long lost track hours ago. There were no objects on her to scrape tallies into the wall or write on her skin how long she had been here. All that she had was a black tank top and leggings. Whoever took her had cut out the hard bit of fabric on the side of her thigh, a knife fashioned by Tony Stark himself. There were only so many people who knew about that, but there were plenty of people capable of torturing someone to find out. She didn’t want to think about that.

Altogether, her current arrangement didn’t make sense. Their plan, it seemed, was to starve her. It had been at least days since she’d been thrown into this solid concrete room, not a single piece of furniture except for blood stains on the pavement. So far there had not been one single sound in here, no sign of life. No one had come to torture her, to find out the passwords or confidential information which made her so desirable for kidnappers.

It was possible that they were trying to weaken her, to take no risks. But starvation was not an efficient way to go about that. Perhaps they had heard of her reputation for breaking out of cells the second that a person was on the other side of the bars (she did that often) but typically, people who knew of those stories didn’t live very long. She began to suspect that whoever kidnapped her, straight out of her bed in the Tower, fabric tied over her eyes, was gone.

Of course, there had to be magic involved here. Or, at least, very sophisticated technology, because in this grey, cement box there was not a single door. Her only company was a large hole in the ground which she had been forced to employ to the use of her needs.

They had to have gotten her in here somehow. She just needed to find out how…


	2. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after mating, peter is going to be an omega, bruce is stressed, clint is suspicious, and......kids?......
> 
> A quick note before we begin, it is necessary to read my short and disappointing epilogues and prologues! They are important even though they don't seem like it just by glancing at them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE VERY FIRST CHAPTER!!!! I'm so excited you guys :)))
> 
> I'll try to have the next chapter out on december 21st.

Smells of sizzling pancakes and sweet bananas filled Tony’s nose, drawing him from sleep and taunting his stomach. Blinking slow, she looked upwards and glanced around him. What day was it? What time was it? What day was it? What _year_ was it?

Standing above him, arms open in an offered embrace, stood his Alpha, hair tied up in a bun. Bucky had clearly been awake for some time, but hadn’t gone for his run yet, based on how his hair wasn’t washed. So, about 5 am. “Mornin’, sleepy head.” The Alpha greeted, “we’re making breakfast, but we didn’t want to wake you; you looked to cute all curled up here.”

Tony was too tired to blush. “Cooking… like, down in the kitchen?” His voice cracked. Yes, his Alphas indeed had worn him out. “Does that mean I’m allowed to leave our little cave?” He looked around at the nest his Alphas had made for him, a mess of t-shirts and comforters balanced by books and stray tech lying around Tony’s room.

He’d never admit it, but it was nice to not have to do it himself. This way, he could relax and enjoy Steve’s mouth on him while Bucky concerned himself with which blankets were fit for his Omega.

"You can only go downstairs because it’s only Peter there. Don’t need a bunch of stray Alphas stinkin’ you up.” Bucky said. “Unless, of course, you don’t want us around him.” He added.

Tony frowned. Why wouldn’t he want his Alphas around Peter? “What do you mean?” He asked, sitting up slowly and pulled a spare sweatshirt over his head. Well, the sweatshirt was Steve’s, but now that they were all mated, it may as well have been for the three of them.

“’Cause he’s an Omega.”

“No, he’s not. He hasn’t presented yet; he’s fifteen.” Tony got to his feet. Sure, Peter was a little giggly and feminine and…and always crushing on Alphas. Oops. Tony hadn’t noticed, but Peter was definitely going to be an Omega. “Actually, you’re probably right.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

“You think I couldn’t handle you being around an Omega? I’m not some crazy Alpha,” Tony laughed. Alphas were usually weird about Alphas being around Omegas.

“I think that’ll change.” He said.

Tony frowned. He’d heard a million times over that no one wants their new mates around people of the opposite second gender, but he had always assumed it was bullshit. Especially 1940s bullshit, considering how much Bucky and Steve subscribed to that kind of attitude. However, Bucky offered him no room to protest.

“Now, come on. Food’s a cookin’.”

In the kitchen Steve was singing along to his old ‘40s music and nodding his head along, bent over the stove with a smile on his face. Peter was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping on orange juice and watching Steve with too-intent eyes. Tony mentally berated himself for not noticing sooner that the kid was definitely going to be an Omega. All those posters of Thor and Captain America in his room…

“Good Morning, Baby.” Steve said, wrapping an arm across the Omega’s shoulders and pressing a kiss into the side of his forehead. “You sleep okay?”

“I definitely slept well,” Tony chuckled, eyeing Peter. Maybe if Peter had already presented, Tony might have a real issue with an Omega being so close to his Alpha. He hated that Bucky was right. Even seeing Peter look at his Alpha irked him.

He walked over to the stove. “Can I help you cook?”

“Nope,” Steve told him. “Your only job today is to sit back and relax. After this, we should go back to the nest. It’s too soon-“

“It’s been a week. I need to start the recovery process of the battle.” Tony interrupted. He’d had no chances to actually contact SHIELD and talk about what was going to happen now that they knew the mole was Natasha. Who would take over their field operations that she’d been the head of? “Who else is going to-“

“Clint and Bruce have been working on it.”

Steve shook his head. He’d expected this, of course, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Omegas were supposed to stay in the nest for a week and a half. It had barely been a week and Tony was already trying to claw his way back into his lab. “Clint and Bruce have been taking care of that. Clint’s talked to Steve and they’re finding all the evidence that she was the mole, but there hasn’t been any sign of her so far. Bruce has inventory lists and he’s starting to continue his previous projects.”

Strong arms slid around Tony’s middle and Bucky’s scruff on his chin moved against the back of Tony’s neck where a fresh mating bite sat. “Everything’s fine. We know that the lab was your den, but you need to stay in our shared space for now. You know that.”

“Can I at least work from our _shared space_?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes. The two Alphas were being old-fashioned in their protection of little Peter, as if the kid didn’t know what a nest was! Peter knew about sex and Tony was sure that he knew Tony’s room was their nest. Based on how carefully the kid was watching the Alphas now, he knew plenty.

“You can do _some_ things. Organizational. That’s supposed to help.” A ding sounded from the oven and Steve grinned widely. “My quiche.”

Tony scoffed. A quiche? Captain America, who nearly ripped the fridge door off every time he opened it, was making a _quiche_? “Since when did you know how to make a quiche?”

“FRIDAY told me how. It’s really not that hard-“

“Wh-Oh, my god. This is what I mean! FRIDAY is not supposed to still have access to the Tower, she’s supposed to be in my lab! FRI!”

_"Yes, Boss?”_

“Why are you here? I thought I set the restrictions to the basement.” Tony said to the ceiling. Bucky would never get used to that damned voice in the sky…

_“My restrictions have not been updated in the past four days. I believe that you were about to use the password to finalize the request when you were…interrupted by Captain America.”_

“You can call me Steve,” the Alpha said.

Tony rubbed his temples. Things were a mess. “Interrupted…” he muttered. “Okay! We’re going to get breakfast and then I’m fixing this place! FRIDAY, shut down for now. We don’t need you.” He didn’t mean to be rude to her, but this was kind of a pressing matters. AIs ran everything in the tower; he didn’t even want to consider all the things that could’ve gone wrong.

" _Yes, Boss.”_

Pleased that his Omega was going to try their food, Bucky ushered him over to the table and they shared their first official meal as new mates. Peter slipped out the back door so that he wouldn’t interrupt.

* * *

 

          
Bruce was happy for his friend, but he was too overwhelmed by all of the work in front of him. How did Tony juggle so much? There were SI reports--thankfully covered for the most part by Pepper--and SI tech to be made, Avengers meetings and finances, personal technology updates for suits and serums for Peter still in the early stages of development…And while it all made it even clearer that Tony did, in fact, need a break, Bruce did now too! But how could he complain about the fact that Tony was finally mating?

There was only so much paperwork he could fill out and only so many things that he could manage with Tony’s tech. The serums were more his area of strength, but he didn’t know how to weld together a motorcycle that had been ripped in half by a Doombot!

“I don’t know how I’m going to get it all done,” he groaned, looking at Clint in front of him. “It’s so much. I mean, could they not have waiting _one day_ to fuck…I know that Tony could’ve done it in a day. I’m just not as good as him.”

Clint nodded before him. “Yeah, he does a lot. I wouldn’t be able to,” he huffed. Bruce was clearly overwhelmed… “You need some help? I can go without my arrows and I can take care of some of those inventory lists for you.”

“Huh? But you already have SHIELD to work with. They’re hard enough; you don’t need to-“

“I’m pretty sure that I can handle lookin’ in the warehouse and writing down what’s there,” Clint laughed. “C’mon, you know it’s too much for one person. Split it with me and we’ll get it done fast. That way, Tony won’t have anything to be stressed about when he comes back.”

Bruce smiled tiredly. “’course, that might be worse. What’ll he use as an excuse to work, then?”

The two were seated together in the living room at 11:00 pm. It was far past Bruce’s usual lame bedtime, and their bodies were sagging under the weight of having to clean up the messes of the three men who were now busy mating. Their week had consisted of _literally_ cleaning up the mess of the battle—picking broken glass up off of their bedroom floors from where the Doombots had gotten in—and arguing with SHIELD over how Natasha clearly had to be the mole.

The actual physical evidence was little, but that was to be expected. Rather, the Avengers were all called into individual rooms and questioned about what they knew, if they ever suspected her from the beginning. And of course, that was useless, as most responses were _she was a spy, I just didn’t think she was a shitty person._ Those were not helpful.

Then, on the Friday after the battle, now a few days ago, they had found one single chip in her room. It was buried underneath twelve layers of glue and wood, pressed underneath the bedframe in a nearly unfindable hole. On it was enough information to find out that she was, indeed, working with Doom, but none of her future plans. There were just stolen schematics of the tower, code from JARVIS which had been taken over and just now cleansed, and designs stolen from Tony That had done it. Natasha, still hiding out somewhere unknown, was the mole. It was accepted, and everyone was determined to move past. Now, they were drinking apple juice in the night, pressing ice packs against their foreheads and staring down at screens in an attempt to move forward.

Peter came striding in, whistling absentmindedly to himself. “Why aren’t you home, kid?” Clint asked, eyeing the boy with suspicion. “It’s late.”

The teenager shrugged and Bruce joined in in the staring. “Y’know,” Peter mumbled, “I just feel weird. I’m gonna sleep here tonight instead. I just came down for some water before I go to bed. Besides, what are _you_ guys doing up? Aren’t you supposed to be all old and in bed by now?” He joked, pressing his cup underneath the water spout and watching it move automatically. Stark tech never ceased to amaze him.

Bruce nodded. “Uh, yeah, I am.” He said shamelessly. “But I can’t afford to be old and tired while Tony’s too busy fucking Steve and Bucky.”

Clint paused before hitting Bruce on the shoulder, nodding over to the teenager in front of the fridge. Peter didn’t notice the exchange, looking away from them to hide the blush on his face. Clint mouthed, eyes wide like he’d witnessed a scandal, _“not in front of the kid”_ and Bruce frowned. Isn’t he, what, fifteen? He knows what sex is; what’s the big deal?

The second that Peter left the room, the back of his neck bright red, Bruce scoffed. “Oh, who do you think he is? Some angel? Just cause he looks like it doesn’t mea-“

“Uh, he’s some _Omega_. You can’t say shit like that in front of a kid who’s probably gonna present soon, man. He’s gonna spontaneously combust or something.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about any of that; I’m a Beta. How’m I supposed to know what he’s gonna be?”

“Look at ‘im.”

“Well…yeah. But it’s not like I can smell him. Don’t blame me for thinking that a kid can handle that. Besides, it’s not like Tony and them are quiet about it, either.”

The archer chuckled. “I guess not. ‘Course, it’s not gonna last. That damned busybody can’t go three minutes relaxing before he runs off to the nearest piece of metal to make it into some contraption.” It was true. Tony had a long history of very few vacations and a huge number of inventions. Actually, on one of his only vacations, he had made his third gauntlet updates from scraps in his basement. He was supposed to be on the beach.

“Thank you for the help, Clint.” Bruce sighed. “It’s really hard to keep up. Not sure how Tony does it.”

“Me either. You’d think he’s a robot or something.” 

* * *

 There were only so many ways that Clint could get into contact with the one who hired him, and regrettably, one was a face-to-face call, where he had to stare down the Man himself and keep a straight face as he was constantly berated for his mistakes. Of course, there were many of them. He was in danger because, though he might be a spy, he had constantly been up against other spies. The Man had begun to consider that perhaps he should have hired them.

As Clint stood in the basement of his simple farmhouse, surrounded by a high-tech room full of weapons he’d been sneaking off throughout the years, he stared straight ahead at the Man on the screen before him. “Our cameras have been dropped, sir.” He reported. “They were all reliant on the Doombots and Doom’s system. Now that he’s been destroyed, we can’t risk using them. All of the Bots running the facility, sir, are now shut down. The facility is unguarded.” He was fine with reporting this because it wasn’t his fault. The Man was idiotic, in Clint’s opinion, for ever putting someone like Doom in charge of the organization of prisoners. If it weren’t for Clint’s last-minute change in location, Natasha would probably already be out by now.

A booming, deep voice played through the speakers and the archer tried not to flinch back. If he showed any fear on this call, he surely was not going to live to see the next one. “Because of _your_ failures, we had to use her as cover, and now Doom has been defeated.” The hooded figure, shadow covering any distinguishable features, inclined his head ever slightly, and his voice became impossibly lower. “Tell me, Hawkeye, how is it that you claim not to be expendable?”

Clint tried not to consider how it had all went down, how he had found this new _FRIDAY_ with information about his plans. The knowledge they had was just a skeleton of what he was truly involved in, and didn’t even come with a name, but someone had to take the blame for it. He had chosen Natasha, considering that the imbecile Bucky’s _I don’t trust her_ would go far enough to cover his tracks. He was right. Besides, it would be easier for them to move on and forget about some backstabbing, artificial Beta who’d been through this a dozen times before.

“I can go down to her and take care of it. She has useful information; I can get her to talk-“

“Your cover cannot be risked and I will not put any personnel in jeopardy by sending them to the Black Widow.” The Man snapped, and Clint’s mouth shut.

“But, she will die of starvation there; and that’s only if she doesn’t escape. We can get the information from her if-“

“No.” The Man’s voice cut in, deep enough to make the speakers vibrate until they shook. “Her death can be made insignificant, Hawkeye, and you can make up for your failures.”

Clint eyed the screen. There were no emotions to analyze, no hints as to how he could make this work. In this job, he had always known that succeeding in a job meant getting paid and failing in a job meant getting killed but this was one of the first times that he had had to face the latter. He would do most anything to get out of it, especially with the Man being the one on the other side.

“How?”

“Find the information.” The Man commanded. “She was not the only one to know. The _Avengers_ ,” he sneered, “do not trust many, but you are one of them. Find it, or you will meet the same fate as the Black Widow.”

“Wh-what if she escapes before then?” Clint asked, voice getting higher pitched at the end.

There was a pause, before “You best search quickly, then.”

* * *

Every morning the Alphas brought Tony his meals from the outside and went for runs, but Tony was to stay inside their nest. The days consisted of long baths, working on his tablet, and doing stretches to keep his body from failing. There were only two times in which they took a break from sex and Tony stepped foot outside of their room. Once, he accompanied his Alphas for a run and then went in the hot tub with them, where they just had _more_ sex.

The second time they left was when Tony was allowed a couple hours to go and sit in the living room with Bruce and Clint. That in itself was a miracle. For Steve and Bucky to be okay with that surprised Tony, and he knew that it was because they wanted him to be happy. It seemed his non-stop complaints had worked.

Tony stared down at the tablet in hand, bothered endlessly by the lack of things to be bothered by. “Everything looks normal. Bruce! Why does everything look normal?! I thought I’d have a whole bunch to do but the inventories are all-“

“Taken care of. You can thank Clint for that, really.” Bruce said, setting his legs in front of him and stretching. It was too early for him to be up like this, talking over things that did nothing but stress him out. He just needed a break, but how could one get a break with Tony Stark’s workload set on his shoulders? “We split the work so that you ‘d have more time to spend with your mates.”

Satisfied, Bucky smiled. “Hear that, Tony?” He yelled from the kitchen. “You have _all the time in the world_ to spend with us-“ He was bent over the stove, looking from dish to dish and surveying the breakfast he was about to present to his Omega. Steve was off somewhere on a run, not wanting to be bothered, just wanting to think through Natasha being the mole.

“I did not want you to do this!” Tony said.

“What?” Bruce looked taken aback.

“I mean, that came out wrong.” Tony sighed. Shit, shit, shit. They were trying to be nice, he knew, but he was chronically unsatisfied! Especially with work that wasn’t done by him! “I’m a control freak. You know, there can be tampering, messing with things if it’s not me doing it! How do I know that everything’s really fine? There was a mix-up with the fun inventory earlier.”

Clint frowned. “Hey, I took care of that. It’s not like we’re letting interns run around touching things they shouldn’t-“

“-Peter is an intern and he’s touched many things-“

 “-be going through. Everything’s fine. I had JARVIS and FRIDAY, the new one, look over it all.” Clint said reassuringly. “There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t know what you need to freak out about, man. I get that mating makes you all stressed and you’re getting cabin fever ‘n all, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

Tony frowned. That was much too positive for him. Was Clint going to be weird that now he was mated? Sure, the archer was a Beta and all, but if he was going to act different, Tony was going to punch him in the dick. “There’s always something to worry about; and I’ll find it!” The mechanic declared, taking the tablet in hand and continuing to scroll through what he had left to look over.

“You do that,” the two chuckled. “Try and get some sleep. Don’t let those Alphas tire you out, Tony. I’m going to bed, I’ve been up way too late. Goodnight.” Clint said, walking through the kitchen up to his room.

Steve, coming in from his run, furrowed a brow. “It’s morning.”

“That’s none of your business!”

Tony scrolled farther up on his StarkPad. So…what else?

All of his SI work was taken care of, but he didn’t need to go through it. Pepper was the one who did it, and he trusted her. But the inventory lists? Done by _Clint_? Clint who would stare at the fridge and ask if they had ketchup which was _right_ in front of his face? That Clint? No. Tony was not going to be okay with that. He was going to check every single thing, all the before and afters, all the checkmarks and tallies. Everything had to be perfect!

Of course, that would have to wait. He’d do inventory on his own, when he could actually go down and see each piece of machinery for himself. He didn’t want to hurt his Alphas’ feelings by being _too_ insistent on leaving their nest.

Bruce’s work, mostly on continuing what he knew how to in the lab, was a little bit less stressful. The man knew his limits and added little _not sure when to go from here, I did some research on it but figured you wouldn’t want an amateur working on it_ notes here and there. The serums for Peter were looking good, and Bruce even altered them so that they would be more specific to his genes when he presented as an Omega. Normally it would be a risk to do so, but for Peter it was a pretty sure bet. The Iron Man suits, thank god, were left untouched, and the suits and weapons had all been repaired as best as they could be. The things that were marked as needing to be scrapped, though, Tony was going to look through. He wasn’t scrapping anything until he saw it himself.

“Breakfast is up,” Bucky said, interrupting his Omega’s thoughts with a _clink_ of a glass plate being set before him. “This time, French toast with strawberries—you know Steve eats way too many of them so I hid this container in the back of the fridge—and some syrup, as always. I got you some milk, too.”

Tony chuckled, looking out at the display before him. There were little cut up strawberries set in the corny shape of a heart across the pieces of French toast. “I love it.” He said. “Thank you. And…milk? What’s with the milk? I thought you said you’d die if you had to look at milk one more time.” Tony recalled the last time that Peter had drank milk with his cookies in front of Bucky and the man had essentially shunned him.

“Yes, I hate milk—it’s the devil’s juice—” Bucky said all too casually, plopping himself down on the couch in front of Tony, “but it’ll be good for the babies. Keeps you nice ‘n strong. C’mere Stevie. I made French toast.”

Before Tony even had the chance to comment on what he’d said, Steve was in front of him. “You don’t like milk but you can eat old pizza? What’s wrong with you?” The Super-Soldier poked fun, settling into a seat beside Bucky.

“Uh, I have taste buds, that’s what.” Bucky shot back.

“Is no one going to comment on how you just said _babies_?” Tony asked, and the two Alphas looked up.

“So?” They both said at the same time through their mouthfuls of French toast.

The Omega scoffed and stared at the Alphas, waiting for them to say something else. “’So’?” Tony finally demanded. “What do you mean ‘so’? _So,_ we mated, like, six days ago and you wanna have kids?!” Tony asked, exasperated. “This was not mentioned to me, the one who would have to have those kids inside of him.”

Steve laughed. “What’d you expect? We’re mated.”

“Okay, maybe if we were still in the 18th century and it were a miracle to have kids.” Tony huffed out a laugh and looked at his Alphas expectantly, as if they were going to clarify that no, they weren’t so serious and expectant about a topic such as having a _whole_ child. Or--or child _ren_! Multiple kids! “People who mate and then immediately have kids, nowadays, are called _irresponsible_ , not _lucky_.” He said. “We-we _just_ mated. I mean, no one said anything about kids to me.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look and Bucky shifted awkwardly in his seat. So…Tony was actually bothered by this. “I mean…why wouldn’t we have kids? We’re mates. That’s what mates do. They have kids.” He glanced over at Steve, who nodded in agreement.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Okay! So this was just…just a time-period thing. Just a difference in expectations. Okay, Tony can deal with that. “Well, now, people aren’t really _expected_ to have kids. I mean, there’s pressure, yeah, but you don’t have to. Not everyone has kids; not everyone wants kids. It’s just…that’s not, like, the only option. You know?”

The Alphas looked at each other again, eyebrows furrowed and mouths shut. Tony hated that. Hated it, hated it. They just shared one glance and knew exactly what the other was thinking. Sure, it was because they’d been together for almost a century, but it made him feel a little out of place. Like…like that was how mates were supposed to be, looking at one another and thinking the same exact thoughts on children, not having to say a word. Yet here he was, clearly not on the same page. This was not supposed to be how he felt. He was supposed to feel perfect about all of this. So…so why did he want to get out of the nest, not have kids? Why wasn’t he just like them? It…it just didn’t feel like it said he should’ve in all the books and movies.

“Well, do you not want to have kids?” Bucky finally asked, setting his fork down like he was trying to prepare himself for the answer.

Tony frowned. He…was it going to be some kind of disappointment if he didn’t? “I don’t _not_ want kids. I guess I just hadn’t considered it. Most people talk these things through, you know.”

“Oh. Well…we can talk it through, then.” Steve said carefully. “I…I want kids. I’ve always wanted kids. We have. We just never had an Omega before.”

Oh. _Oh_. “Is…” No, it couldn’t be. Tony’s heart beat faster as the thought raced through his mind, and before he could register it, he asked “Is that why you mated me? You just wanted kids?” That would be a humiliation beyond anything else. Rushing into mating, making the biggest mistake of his life for two Alphas who didn’t even want him for him, just him for his body. God, had he really done that? Did they really only-

“Tony, of course not!” Steve reassured him.

Images of them in bed flashed through Tony’s mind. They’d hovered over his body, told him how beautiful, how sweet, how desirable of an Omega he was. Was that it? Was that really it?

“We wanted you for a while. It’s not because you’re an Omega, it’s because you’re you.”

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t-“

Steve didn’t even let him finish. He took the Omega’s hands into his own and looked him in the eye. “No, no. We want you for you, Tony. You’re amazing. You’re funny and you’re smart, you’re exactly what we need. You complete us, Baby.” He said. “We just…we _also_ want kids with you. We’ve always wanted kids.”

The Omega averted his gaze down into his lap. His mind was still slightly spinning. That stupid comment, that stupid _we just never had an Omega before_ implied everything that he could possibly be insecure about, but all of the words after reassured him.

God, he hated this. He hates this flip-floppy feeling that comes every time he learns about another betrayal in his life. That immediate _I should have expected it, but I’ll be sure to expect it the next time_. That sentiment ruins his life, but he sticks to it each and every time, because he suspects all of the wrong people, and yet everyone at the same time.

“I…I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I just…I have a tendency to make mistakes and to not even realize I have until it’s too late. And, just, we really didn’t talk this through. I don’t it to be a mistake. I love you both and I need this to go right, but Natasha…I…I thought she was something that went right. And…” Stupid, annoying, inconvenient tears threatened his eyes and he looked down, “I just feel really anxious and I don’t know why.”

The two Alphas rushed to his side and held his hands. “Hey, hey. It’s alright.” What else could they say? They just needed Tony to talk some more, to explain.

“I know that I need to stay in the nest and take care of myself and everything, and I do want to, but I…I _deal_ by just picking up the pieces one by one, taking care of all of the information and then moving on to the emotions. Now I’ve gotta do it backwards ‘cause I can’t go anywhere.”

“It’s okay…” Bucky soothed. “You…we’re here to support you, okay? The…the pieces are already picked up, and it’s probably good that you face the emotions. We’ll be here while you do-“

“I’m bad at facing emotions!”

“I know, I know,” Steve said, nearly chuckling but forcing it down. “But we’re here to help, okay? We know that…that this has been a lot, with us and Natasha in such a short period of time…” he looked over to the other Alpha and they both wondered about exactly what _could_ they do to help? Natasha had betrayed them. Mostly Tony. Nothing could change that. Could anything make it better? “Have you gotten a chance to call your therapist this week?”

“I did some exercises a couple days ago, wrote some things down. But I haven’t seen her.” He mumbled. “I’m really sorry. I’m kind of a mess…I know you don’t just want me for kids.”

“It’s okay.” Steve whispered. “It’s normal to go through some emotions at a time like this. Even if everything was as it normally would be.” Mating was an emotional time. “You can take your time, yeah? Just…take the day to relax. Go through some reports, if you need. You can have Clint screen-call you from the Warehouse and he can show you whatever you need to see down there. Call your therapist and…we’ll be here.”

* * *

 

**Sent: Tony Stark**

Sorry I yelled at you before. I need a favor

 

**Received: Hawkbitch**

Some of my favorite and least favorite words.

What do you need?

 

**Sent: Tony Stark**

If I give you the codes to me Deep Labs could you go down there and send me the notes on my machines? I need them for organizing but I can’t go down there.

 

**Received: Hawkbitch**

Tf is a deep lab

 

**Sent: Tony Stark**

Where I keep my coolest stuff and the stuff that’s most likely to accidentally explode. All the prototype advanced weaponry for old SI and calculators I modified in highschool

Both equally likely to be dangerous

Mind going down?

 

**Received: Hawkbitch**

No problem. What’s the code?

* * *

 "I do hope that you wouldn’t dare to contact me if you had not found the information.” The Man said the second that their call began.

Clint, standing with his arms at his side and his head held high, nodded his head. “I’ve got it, sir. Just as requested. From here on, I’d consider our business done. It would be ideal, now, to have the Black Widow disposed of.” He added.

The Man grinned. The only visible part of him was a flash of bright white teeth. “Very well.”

* * *

 

 

For about two weeks, things were at an awkward sort of stage in between leaving the nest and going back to normal. At least, they were for Tony. He found himself going down to his lab and bringing projects back upstairs into the bedroom, something which he never did. He spent hours scrubbing FRIDAY’s code himself, ensuring that nothing was in it, and getting her to take blueprints which were strictly only accessible from the lab and put them up onto the bedroom screen. He wanted to work, yes, but there was a strange pull preventing him from going back to how things were. Things were different now, and as his therapist said, he would have to get used to this _medium time, Tony. Don’t overwork yourself and don’t bring any explosives into your bedroom, even if you’re working on them as a project._ That rule, he had mostly disregarded at first, but since he’d begun tinkering again, trying to get through the list of repairs, he found that a surprisingly large amount of the Avengers’ defenses came from some sort of explosive device.

The Alphas were very much ready to get back to their own work, though they would never say so to Tony after giving him so much shit about how he was too much of a nerd. As soon as they were cleared for duty—that is, as soon as they could prove that they wouldn’t immediately kill any Alpha who walked towards Tony or the Tower—they stepped back into battle. But things were slow.

Yes…they were slow.

“White Wolf, to your left!” Steve called, daring to pause for a moment to reassure himself by watching Bucky easily beat the Second Bank Robber. Of course, the Second one was not the problem. There was a woman who they’d assigned the title Third Bank Robber to (Steve came up with all the no-nonsense names much to Peter’s dismay) hiding around the corner, pressing herself against a wall and hugging a gun to her chest so that she couldn’t be seen by Bucky. Steve had a sneaking suspicion that Bucky had already seen her, but his anxiety only lifted once he’d warned him anyway. They could both still feel the effects of mating.

Immediately Bucky looked behind him and lunged, fist out in front of him. With a fleshy and bone-crunching smack it collided with her face. Behind his mask, a thin, black strip of complicated fabric hand crafted by Tony—the Omega said that he’d make him itself so that he could be sure it’d look hot—which covered his mouth and jaw, he cringed. Long ago he had learned to never let second gender interfere with a fight, but he’d never get used to the feeling of every molecule in his body screaming at him that it was wrong to hurt a soft, sweet Omega. It was even harder now that he thought of his own mate at home, but he managed. The woman went flying through the air, unconscious before she was off the ground, and hit a wall off to the side. She was no longer a problem.

From behind, another Robber loaded up his fun with a technological _swoosh_ which made Bucky look around, thinking Tony was there, and before Bucky had the chance to hit him, Steve fired a single shot and swooped off to the next enemy. Bank Robber Four was down by Captain America’s hand.

These Bank Robbers had been at it for months now. The FBI stood no chance at stopping them because the team each had their own new type of gun. Some spit fire, some electrocuted anything the blasts touched, and some seared through anything in their path. Thanks to Tony Stark and his ability to be incredibly helpful even out of the field, there were only six more to go.

Peter, watching from the vents where he was hiding, was screaming internally. Every single battle he got to be a part of was the coolest thing he’d ever seen! This was no exception. Two Avengers besides him currently occupied the building, originally facing off against a team of Ten Bank Robbers. And, that is, without Peter’s help. Exactly thirteen minutes into hand-to-hand combat, there were only six— _oh_ , Peter looked away as one went flying through a window—five left.

Currently, the Spider was on lookout duty only, too close to Presenting for him to be in any immediate danger. Because the Avengers didn’t want to hear his whole _I’m a big kid now_ speech, they’d put him up in the ceiling where he could warn them over the comms if any more Robbers showed up. No one even knew he was here. At first he’d thought it was lame, but he liked to stay positive, so he just considered himself to be a covert spy.

“Three down,” Steve said as he knocked a man through yet another window, out of Bucky’s way while the other man flip-kicked someone into a wall. “Oh, oops,” The Captain muttered. That looked a little more painful than he’d intended it to be. Based on their intel, Robber Number Eight, who was now lying on the pavement outside, only originally got in the game because he wanted to pay for his college.

“Thanks, Baby,” Steve’s mate chuckled over the comms, “Always takin’ care of me.”

“Uh, White Wolf! In appropriate!” Peter mocked. All of the times that Steve had reprimanded him for making jokes or asking what was going to be for lunch during a fight! Now when Bucky wanted to flirt with him, it was fine?!

It took another three and three-fourths minutes to get the other two Robbers. Peter counted. These two fell into a much luckier fate: handcuffs rather than a hospital bed. Peter had to resist cheering the whole time; it was torture. He’d spent his whole childhood wanting to be next to Captain America and the nameless hot Alpha in the museum in Captain America exhibit photos. Now he had the chance, and he was stuck in the vents like his codename was Hawkeye!

“Yeah! Good job you guys! Oop, I mean, my bad! Sorry, I forgot I’m not supposed to say anything. I’ll just shut up now-Oh! Another Robber behind you! There’s a Robber Number Eleven!” He squealed, but Bucky knew it before he did. In moments, they were going hand to hand with a gunless, yet very large man.

Rather than the usual oversized, glowing pistol which the Robbers usually carried, this man had some sort of glove. The Alphas had to rely on dodging all of his hits before getting any in themselves. It wasn’t worth it to figure out what the contraptions on his hands did. Bucky landed a solid shot against the man’s face; Peter had to put a hand over his mouth to cover his excited yells.

Over the comms, a fourth voice sounded as Robber Number Eleven bounced back. “Hey, Babe,” Tony said, standing back in the kitchen at the Tower. “do you need more artists’ pencils? I’m place orders for-“

“What?! He can ask about pencils but I’m not allowed to-“

“Spider-Man, quiet! And yes, Honey. Range 4B to HB, please. We’ll be home in a few. Oh! White Wolf, do you need another punching bag ordered?” The Captain asked, and then, “behind you! Another!”

There were more Robbers than they predicted. Peter did another scan of the room and found none hiding in the shadows, but for good measure he shot one single strand of electric web down at Robber Number Twelve, who had an axe of some sort. He fell to the ground all too easily. Peter grinned.

“Yes!” The teen cried.

“Peter?! What were you thinking?!” Bucky yelled.

“Babe, do you need another bag or not? I’m placing the order right now-“

“Yes I need another bag! We have to go, we love you. Peter! What were you thinking?!” The Alpha demanded, shoving the last robber off and not watching as the body crumpled into a wall. “You were supposed to be a secret!”

Lying around the two mates was a pile of human bodies scattered about like loose change. They were tall and intimidating, brooding as they stood among the proof of their win. If Peter weren’t getting yelled at, it would’ve been really hot. Well, maybe it was anyway.

The only reason Peter was here because this mission--ten human bank robbers up against two Super Soldiers--was insignificant and easy to win! They hadn’t _said_ that to Peter, but they’d told him to stay in the vents! They’d told him to stay out of trouble! They were all terrified that he would get hurt in his both physically and emotionally weak state! If he nearly got hurt one more time Steve was going to have a fucking stroke!

The teen hopped down with a smile. “I did stay hidden. It was the last one, I figured I’d save you the potential axe in the head and shoot a web _long distance_ from my hiding place in which get _couldn’t get to me_. Mr. Rogers, you act like I just jumped down and started singing opera. I was safe!”

“No, you weren’t.” Steve said, taking a step forward and removing his mask. “We told you to stay up there, stay safe, and you threw a web down. What would’ve happened if Robber Number Thirteen showed up out of nowhere, huh?”

Peter frowned and paused. “…there’s a Robber Number Thirteen?”

“No! But that’s exactly my point! We don’t _know_ who’s out there, who’s waiting for someone to reveal themselves!”

“…sounds like _you_ were waiting for someone to reveal themselves-“

“This is not a joke, Peter.”

“I didn’t say it was! Mr. Rogers, I was _fine_. I didn’t do anything wrong! You can’t yell at me for doing, like, the least risky thing I could’ve possibly done in that situation. What would’ve happened if Robber Number Twelve, who we _did_ know was there, had gotten to you and you hadn’t seen? Without my web, you would have an axe in your head!”

Then, over the comms, “Hey do you guys feel like Thai for dinner?” Tony asked obnoxiously? “The guy who delivers it is, like, a total stoner but he always gets the order right. Will that make your Alpha senses go all crazy-“

Steve groaned. “That’s it! Comms off! We’re all heading back!”

* * *

“Good job, Captain.” Fury said, a nearly casual congratulation for taking down five men exactly his size. It was nothing new to them.

Peter, bubbling up with excitement, puffed his chest out and smiled widely at Fury. “I took down Robber Number Twelve!”

“What? Now who’s going to do the paperwork on it, kid? You said you were going to be inactive for this.” An agent behind Fury noted.

Peter frowned. “Well, if I’d known there was going to be paperwork…”

“Oh, _really_? You’d’ve left him to me not so save your own life, but to avoid filling out papers?!”

“I already have too much chemistry homework! The last thing I need is-“

“That’s it, that’s it,” Bucky interrupted. “We can’t change it now. We’ll talk before the next mission, okay? And next time, your listening to our orders. You got it?” He said, giving Peter a pointed look. The teen pouted, but reluctantly nodded and hopped off. Steve could’ve sworn he saw someone fist-bump him on the way out.

The second that he was gone, Steve nearly collapsed onto the conference table. “God. How was that so boring yet so stressful? I mean, it was barely a mission, but having Peter there just…” Ugh. There weren’t words for it, there really weren’t. Something about his presence was like a bug crawling up Steve’s back, demanding his attention but too small to do anything about.

“We told you this would happen.” Agent Black told him, leaning back in her chair. She was currently the only Agent of high enough clearance that she simultaneously could be around the Avengers and not be formal with them at all. “You bring an Omega into the field after mating, he’s going to be a distraction. That’s just how it is. We can’t have you worrying about him-“

“And we can’t have my inability to _not worry_ keep him out of the field. I know,” he exhaled. “Me being all Alpha-y shouldn’t be a reason to hold him back. I’ve heard it all before, April. I really have. I just…I mean, what’m I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to go on a real mission, that’s what.” She said, voice lazy. “One too dangerous for the kid, where you’ll get to blow off some steam and he can go on those kinds of small missions with Tony once he’s ready.”

“That’ll mean sending Tony on lame missions because we’re Alphas and can’t handle having Peter there. That’ll mean us getting yelled at.” Bucky deadpanned. “No, no. Why don’t we send him down to the lab, yeah? Have him run simulations with Bruce, or have Clint to show him how to shoot? That’ll be good.”

“Yeah,” Steve joined in, a little more eager now that he remembered just how much he’d been wanting some real excitement before Peter had brought it to him, “how about something bigger than just a few robberies? We can handle more, and sooner.”

Agent Black scoffed. “A few _hundred_ robberies, but okay…”

The Director was eating a sub at his desk. They had long since passed formalities between them. While the Super Soldiers knew exactly zero facts about Nick Fury, Nick knew everything about them, and he would sit back in his chair every once in a while. Even _eat_ in front of them. And he didn’t eat in front of anyone. People thought he was a robot. “Oh, you sound disappointed that there are no perilous threats being posed to the earth. Have something to share with us, Captain?” Fury said, unamused.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about us needing them _sooner_ , Stevie. You know it’s better this way. We get to hear Tony while we work and there’re no robots surrounding the outside of the Tower. Sounds ideal to me, if we can just get Peter to train for a while instead of being in the field. He has to expand his horizons anyway.” The Alpha grinned. “Come on, lighten up.”

“It doesn’t feel…I don’t know…too good to be true? Taking down non-enhanced, generally non-threatening bank robbers? In the middle of the night, where no one’s there to be in danger? Where the money’s insured? By the government?” Steve said and Fury shook his head. _I am that government, thank you. I am the one who replaces_ diamonds with superpowers _when they’re stolen._

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you sounded _bored_.”

“Well…Maybe I am.” Steve said boldly and Bucky took a step back.

“What? You’re _bored_? We just took down a bunch of bank robbers on a Friday night and now we’re coming home to our Omega who flies around a giant suit of armor for fun. What’s your definition of fun?”

“I-“ Steve scoffed- “I’ve been fightin’ for the last seventy years, Buck. It feels weird to not be in battle at some point.”

“Yeah, I’ve been fighting too.” Bucky told him and Steve frowned. Yes, yes. Bucky fought much harder, and much stronger. “I don’t miss it.” The statement hung in the air for a few moments and the Alpha took a step forward, taking Steve’s hands into his. They ignored the other people in the room, who were by now used to these awkward displays of affection. “Trust me, babe, this is better. I know you’re not used to it; it’s like returning from war. But this is better. It is.”

Reluctantly, Steve nodded. Yes, he knew that this was true. He knew that it made sense that he should be glad that things were all…domestic and sweet. And he was! He really was, but it…he wasn’t used to it. He didn’t know how to be all docile. He only knew how to be mostly docile, but attack things at least once a month, or start a revolution! He didn’t know how to do this.

“Am I an awful Alpha for being unsatisfied?” He had it all…

Bucky shook his head. “No. You’re a soldier. But you’ll get used to it.” He pressed their foreheads together and wrapped his arms around the bigger man. Their breathing slowly synched up and the scent of each other’s spice filled their minds. It was always more soothing to be here, holding one another, than out in battle. Steve knew this. “Now, let’s go see Tony. And keep that Thai delivery man away from him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you guys think! Feedback means everything and this isn't edited so if there's something that doesn't make sense please comment below so I can fix it!
> 
> Thank you and I hope you all have a really good holiday season and you stay safe!
> 
> Also, i have a TONY X BUCKY FIC now out which is called Choosing You. It's not Steve-friendly and is way angstier than this but if you want to check it out, go over!
> 
> Find more of my writing on [tumblr](http://starkmarks.tumblr.com/) and [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/admxtal).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for putting up with my typos, fucked up tenses, and constant Sorry I'm Posting This A Day Lates. Just like the last book I am going to be posting every other week with long chapters (they're long for me; I know that some people post a whole fucking game of thrones novel per chapter but that is not me when I'm writing for myself). So, next update will be December 7th
> 
> Predict what will happen! Do you think she'll escape? Who do you think will find out about Clint/will they find out about Clint?
> 
> Coming up:  
> Peter is truly a teenager, why didn't they talk things out before making decisions?, bruce banner has bags under his eyes, and no one is appropriate over the comms while they're fighting.
> 
> Check me out on my [tumblr](http://starkmarks.tumblr.com/)!


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